Chapter 40

...

Logically speaking, I shouldn't have avoided Kuroro.

I waited for him for so long, and I kept thinking about how he abandoned me for so long. Even my departure from Zoldyck this time was because I saw information related to him.

But for some reason, at this moment, I suddenly wanted to get away from him.

Silence, a silent stillness, permeated the air between us.

It took me quite a while to finally manage to find my voice again.

“Brother,” I addressed him as I always did, even though we both knew it was all a ridiculous and absurd hoax, I asked, “...What happened here?”

He must know what I meant by "here".

The answer I want to know is related to my father, the man I haven't had any contact with since I was very young.

"It's just a minor issue," Kuroro said casually, glossing over the problem. "I suggested he consult a doctor; he only had a month left to live at that time."

"When did this happen?" I asked again.

After a moment's thought, he gave a precise date.

I mentally calculated, making only a rough estimate of the time, confirming it was shortly after Kuroro left Adrian, when I heard him say again:

"I thought you would arrive soon, but you didn't, so I had to postpone your meeting."

He was probably referring to the fact that I didn't use the ticket.

I was stunned for a moment.

Now that things have come to this, what should I say?

I have no idea.

The bell hanging at the entrance of the small shop started to ring. Before I could clear my mind of these confused thoughts, I was swept out of the shop and brushed past a stranger who pushed open the door and disturbed the wind chimes.

"It doesn't seem like a suitable place to talk inside." The infamous and ruthless leader of the Phantom Troupe, at this moment, stood empty-handed at the shop entrance like an ordinary tourist, smiling slightly at me in a gentle tone.

A gentle breeze, carrying the dampness and saltiness of the sea, swept over him, causing his short black hair to flutter slightly, drifting away from his neck and revealing the elegant lines of his jaw.

As I looked at him, his gaze fell on me.

“You changed your hair color,” he said.

It's not a good time to respond to that, so I lowered my eyes and remained silent.

I've passed the stage where I couldn't wait to get close to him no matter what he said.

Perhaps my silence made him realize something, because he stood in front of me and also fell silent, not saying anything more.

The wind is a bit chilly.

I reached out and brushed my unruly hair back and forth.

“I’m engaged.” Then I showed him the ring on my finger and invited him, “…Will you come to my wedding?”

There's no need to think; everyone knows this is a question that will be rejected.

But that's just how I am.

I always like to ask questions even when I know I'll be rejected, and pursue people who will eventually leave me behind.

“What a pity,” I said, then laughed again, withdrew my hand, and said to him, “If only we could have gotten married back then, brother… Why did you choose that identity?”

But if he hadn't chosen to pretend to be my brother, it seems we wouldn't have had any chance to meet.

Perhaps this is what they call destiny.

I looked down at the ring on my hand.

...I know this illusory journey will burst like a bubble. No matter how closely Gon stays by my side, how confidently Killua makes his promises, or even if Chrollo happens to appear at this crucial moment, when it comes down to it, I still have to return to the Zoldyck family and to Illumi's side.

This is fate.

No one could pull me out of that abyss.

Nobody else is willing to do that.

...I only thought about it briefly, and was lost in thought for a moment.

I have no lingering feelings of nostalgia or love for Kuroro left.

Making such complaints is nothing more than a habitual attempt to shift the blame for one's unhappiness onto others.

However, unexpectedly, this time the complaint was not ignored, but instead received a response.

...Kuroro pondered for a moment.

"I see."

His eyes are also black, unlike mine or Illumi's. Kuroro's eyes reflect a clear, glass-like light, making him look pure and innocent.

Like a naive young man, he was completely unaware of the difficulties he might face, and a childish smile appeared on his face.

“I’m sorry, Ray,” he said softly, “I’m late.”

During those days when I was in the abyss for a long time, holding onto the only vine on the edge of the cliff that was about to break, and I had become numb, I did fantasize that someone might suddenly appear and say something similar.

But never.

All people say are things like "Just bear with it a little longer," "I can't understand it," and "Keep it up, this is fine."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," "Please forgive me"—these are phrases I've never heard before.

My left hand was held in someone's palm and slightly raised. He smiled and slowly removed the ring from my finger.

"...It seems a bit late to say this now, but it should still be in time."

He talked to himself for a while, then finally looked up at me.

He was holding the ring in his hand, a gesture that clearly looked like a marriage proposal, yet he was uttering vile words that were meant to destroy someone else's marriage.

“Come with me, Ray,” he said, his eyes gleaming slightly as if a child had just pulled off a prank. “We’re a better match than him.”

"..."

Very tempting words.

But I laughed along with him, and then reached out to try and take the ring from his hand.

“No,” I refused his offer, “give it back to me.”

The silver light flashed between his fingers and disappeared right before my eyes.

“I’m so heartbroken,” he said, withdrawing his hand and smiling nonchalantly. “It really didn’t work out… I thought you’d be tempted.”

"Does it mean it's not okay if I'm not your older brother... In that case, it's not impossible to continue treating me as your older brother—"

Before he could finish speaking, a sharp, alarming fighting spirit suddenly swept over him.

The boy in green clothes and brown hair brandished his weapon, retrieved the line that was hooked onto a high stone pillar, and fell from the front, kicking towards Kuroro.

In the blink of an eye, Kuroro quickly stopped speaking, dodged the opponent's attack, and nimbly turned around to get behind me.

Gon stopped what he was doing, adopted a defensive stance, and stared coldly at Kuroro, confronting him.

“Let go of Ray!” he shouted.

Kuroro, standing behind me, said, "I thought it looked a lot like you when I heard the description, but I didn't expect it to actually be you..."

“In that case,” I heard him say, “I have no choice but to take her with me.”

Before I could even figure out what that sentence meant, everything went dark.

Kuroro knocked me unconscious.

...

After several twists and turns, news of Lady Adrian's search for her daughter reached the ears of people who shouldn't have known, and some unnecessary details were added to it.

—Someone saw a woman who looked like that lady with a boy in green carrying a fishing rod.

—Are you sure it's her?

—I don't know, the outlines are very similar, but the hair color is completely different.

Moreover, that young lady's social circle didn't seem like something that could be mixed up with a simple "fisherman's boy."

This news was discarded by most people because it was not very reliable, but it was remembered by the leader of the Phantom Troupe who happened to hear it.

...

When I woke up again, I hadn't fully opened my eyes yet. I was just vaguely trying to recall what had happened to me when I heard two voices talking to each other in confusion next to me.

"...With this woman here, we can find the Chainhand."

"That's what the commander said."

"Why is it one against four...? By the way, Little Di, don't you think she looks familiar?"

"Yes, I don't know her."

"No, no, no, no... I'm sure I've seen her somewhere before... Feitan, go and turn that woman's face around so I can see."

"Pass."

"Feitan!!! You don't have any good cards this round, right? Fine, you won't go check on that woman for me, but why didn't you stop Shizuku's cards?!"

"If you keep making noise, I'll cut your tongue out."

"Really? Are you really going to do this to me?"

"It's your turn to play, Phinks. Don't try to distract me."

...

It was noisy and disruptive.

My neck hurts a little.

I had barely opened my eyes and turned them slightly when I was noticed by several people in the dimly lit corner before I could even make a sound.

"Ah, she's awake. ...One against eight."

The man's voice, which sounded strangely familiar, had become much deeper.

I sensed danger in it.

Then came the voice of another girl, whose voice was also strangely familiar.

“The bomb,” she said. “I won.”

The cards hit the ground with a soft "thud."

The man, disappointed and angry, withdrew the dangerous look he had just cast, and questioned:

"Why is it like this again! Your luck is ridiculously good today!... You cheated, you must have cheated secretly!"

The girl's voice was cold and devoid of any inflection.

"It's time to pay, Finks. You already defaulted on your debt this morning."

"Damn it—"

I racked my brains for a while before I remembered that I did seem to have seen them somewhere before.

Because I was thinking about this, I couldn't help but look at them... Then, their companion noticed, and in the dim light, I glimpsed the guy who was outside the noisy scene, turning his golden eyes and looking at me coldly.

Those eyes were terrifyingly cold, not intentionally, but simply their natural state. He was like a born predator, so ruthless that he could send shivers down people's spines without saying a word.

When he realized I had finally noticed him, he looked back at me more openly, his gaze carrying an added sense of invisible pressure.

“…Feitan,” the man who looked familiar also noticed this, stopped arguing with the girl, and asked, “Why did you suddenly start using Nen pressure?”

The guy with the golden eyes, known as Feitan, continued to stare at me while coldly saying:

"That guy is an eyesore."

...Was that guy talking about me?

Just as I was thinking this, he stood up, looked down at me, and said in a commanding tone:

"Take your eyes back. I never repeat myself."

The act of searching for memories in one's mind is paused.

I sat up, raised my chin, and fearlessly retorted:

"But... how can we take it back?"

"Eyes are naturally part of my face."

A seemingly casual remark, because of its provocative undertones, ignited a certain fuse in the man.

The pressure of thought grew increasingly intense.

“Hey, hey,” his male companion behind him raised his voice slightly, “she’s the one who can find clues about the Chain Hand… Don’t you want to get revenge on that guy? You’d better hold back!”

...I remember now.

As he spoke and walked out of the dark corner, I finally remembered... his very distinctive, bald eyebrows, and his unusually large stature... This guy seemed to be the Nen user that Milluki and I had encountered before, and whom we had also seen at the hotel.

With that said, I turned to look at the other girl present.

...It was the girl I'd seen once before at the exhibition.

It turns out they were also members of the Phantom Troupe.

It turns out that while Milluki was trying to keep me away from the Phantom Troupe, I had already met them.

This is really...

I laughed out loud, which was completely out of place.

Feitan, who had initially restrained himself and tried his best to control himself due to Phinks's obstruction, vanished in an instant—

Are you serious?!

...With incredulous voices from [Finks], the cold and terrifying Nen pressure arrived beside me at an incredible speed.

I stood up and leaped backward—

However, the body, which had not been trained for a long time, could not keep up with the brain's reaction speed and lagged behind for a moment.

The man's umbrella-shaped sword suddenly appeared and pressed against my right shoulder.

A sharp, subtle stinging pain emanated from beneath his umbrella-shaped sword.

"laugh."

...After the blood beads slowly seeped out, an unusual silence filled the surroundings, and then the man holding the umbrella sword let out a soft sneer.

"Useless." He gave a blunt assessment without any mercy, then sheathed his weapon.

“I thought you were something special,” he said sarcastically, “but I overestimated you.”

I didn't say anything, I just looked at him silently.

I don't think my expression was very good, because after observing my expression, his tone revealed a hint of satisfaction and pleasure.

“If you still don’t know how to get rid of that nasty look of yours,” but overall his tone was still sinister, like a viper spitting its tongue, “I’ll gouge your eyes out—I don’t care about any [chain hands]…”

He abruptly stopped speaking, paused for a moment, then chuckled coldly to himself. He then spoke in an even more sinister tone, his voice dripping with intimidation:

"No, it still has an impact. You might be better off praying that guy doesn't care about you at all."

After saying that, he put away his weapon and walked away.

I was left standing there in silence.

...No one has ever threatened me like this except for Illumi.

Am I someone who seems easy to manipulate?

Even Illumi sometimes pays a price for talking to me like that.

I certainly couldn't inflict any fatal damage on him, but I could still create some minor troubles and accidents...

After standing quietly in place for a while, the stinging pain in my shoulder had completely disappeared.

After a moment of blank stare, I quickly put on a smile again and turned to look in the direction of that terrifying man once more.

“I see,” I said, deliberately meeting his gaze with the “probing” look he had mentioned, the one I disliked, the one that involved my Nen ability. “I’m really sorry to have made you feel uncomfortable.”

“But,” I asked again, “can you tell me…what exactly is it about me that makes you uncomfortable?”

His previously relaxed eyes narrowed dangerously.

“If you don’t tell me,” I deliberately softened my voice, making myself look more bewildered and innocent, “it will be very difficult for me to correct you, sir.”

“And,” I added, “I can’t stop myself from looking at you.”

The pressure poured out, as if it were a tangible force, pressing heavily on my shoulders.

"Because you're special." I raised my chin, resisting the Nen pressure—this was just one of Illumi's most common tricks, and I didn't care.

I continued without changing my expression, "I care about you a lot... Does this make you uncomfortable, sir? You should probably deal with my heart and brain first, rather than my eyes."

"You're courting death," he coldly pronounced.

But I remained unmoved.

“But I’m telling the truth,” I smiled, “If I don’t have eyes, I can still use my ears, my smell, my language, my heart… Will these make you uncomfortable, sir? But I can’t control them, what should I do?”

The thought subsided for a moment, and the pressure on his shoulders eased.

Then, suddenly, it surged and swept towards me in an overwhelming manner.

It was as hot as a ghostly blue flame, yet had no temperature whatsoever—if his psychic powers could materialize, they would surely become something like this.

This is how I analyze my Nen ability.

However, I am not afraid, because my Nen ability also tells me:

He doesn't intend to kill me right now.

As long as the [Chain Hands] exist, as long as I still have some use, as long as... Kuroro hasn't agreed yet.

He won't make a move.

So I looked at him with a defiant smile, just as I always had.

...That pure mental power, which contained terrifying pressure, was swiftly withdrawn before it could touch me.

“You think,” he then raised his voice and asked me, “that’s all I’m capable of, just like you?”

"What other silly last words do you have?" he continued. "Say them all before you can only beg for my mercy."

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Yeah, I'll write more today and try to update again tomorrow. I definitely haven't written much this week (flips fingers).

I really can't help feeling sleepy.